Here And Now
by FandomAddict1999
Summary: The Golden Trio has lived through their Hogwarts years. Now, it's time for their children to make their own memories. Albus Potter's life is turned upside down when he starts his first year at Hogwarts. Being the son of the Chosen One can be daunting sometimes. Albus knows he has a lot to live up to, but with his friends by his side, he'll go through it all with his head held high.
1. Chapter 1

**Here And Now**

ALBUS

"Stop it!" I felt myself shout as I was shoved towards the barrier. I closed my eyes, waiting for impact – but then felt a rush of oxygen through my lungs. I opened my eyes and realized that I had passed through the barrier; however, my earlier scream had been quite audible, and several wizards were staring at me. I felt blood rush to my face. I wanted to vanish into thin air.

My brother James, of course, was no help, cackling at me like the banshee I deep down knew he was.

"Oh, shut it!" I snarled at him furiously, wishing he'd gotten run over by a truck.

James, however, ignored me and kept sniggering. "You're such a pansy, you'll never get into Gryffindor like this!" he wheezed in between laughs.

"_Mum!_" I moaned.

"What? We all know it's true!" he yelled when dad shot him a look.

Mum turned to face James, her expression vicious. Her hair looked as if it were on fire, and her eyes blazed. Steam was practically flowing out of her ears. When mum was mad, I could almost imagine her with horns and a demon's dress. James gave a visible gulp. "... Yes, mum?" he said timidly.

"James Sirius Potter, _what,_" mum said slowly, her voice tight with anger, "have I told you –" she let another slow breath out –"about troubling your brother?"

Uh oh.

She'd used James's full name.

His _full _name.

This meant one thing, and one thing alone...

James was doomed.

James trembled at being subjected to mum's wrath. "I was only joking, Al knows I didn't mean it – don't you, Al?" James turned his wide fearful brown eyes towards me hopefully, running his hand through the Potter hair we both had inherited, but I could only shrug apologetically – we all knew there was no getting him out of this.

_I'll write your will, _I mouthed to James, being the oh-so-helpful brother I was. _Can I put myself down for all your quidditch things? Oh, and that awesome signed poster you got from The Ghouls?_

James glared at me. _Shut your face, _he mouthed back.

I could only shrug, mentally wincing for James. There was nothing that could save him now...

Except for Lily! Lily, my fiery, mischievous younger sister, had started learning quidditch a few months ago, and last week, she'd accidentally fallen off her broom. While she had broken no bones, she had sprained her ankle very badly. Mum had fixed it in a heartbeat, but Lily still liked to milk it all she could.

I frantically started gesturing towards Lily, hoping James would understand. His eyes widened and, when mum turned around to ask dad something, he hissed, "If you help me this time, I'll forget all about asking Fred for help with getting my revenge on you for filling my bedsheet with bugs."

Lily pondered over this for a while, and gave a sharp nod. "Deal."

"Good. Now work your magic!"

Mum turned away from dad and back to James, and continued her lecture. "James Sirius Potter, I have put up with this unacceptable behavior for far too long! You have been insufferable, impertinent, brazen and quite possibly the most insolent boy your age I know! Is _this_ how Harry and I have raised you? To endlessly make fun of your brother? Because, believe me, I will not put up with it any longer! I refuse to let you get away with it! Throughout your vacations, I –"

Lily suddenly fell to the ground, clutching her feet. "Mum, my ankle!" she cried. "It's throbbing!" Lily somehow morphed her features into those of anguish as she moaned piteously. My sister had stunning acting skills, I had to give her that. If I hadn't known she was lying, I would've been quite taken in.

Mum's head instantly whipped away from James, her doe brown eyes filled with concern. "What's the matter, Lily, darling? Did you twist your hurt ankle again? Wait a second, I'll get it fixed in a moment –"

I leaned over towards dad. "Why's mum more riled up than usual today?" I asked in a hushed voice. "She's normally a lot calmer about these things, and I can _see_ the dark shadows under her eyes."

Dad smiled ruefully. "Mindful as ever, Al," he remarked.

"Well, we can't all be like James, can we? Merlin knows the world couldn't suffer enough," I said, smirking.

"Hey!" James shouted from the background. "I can hear you!"

Obviously, Dad and I ignored him.

"You know, your mum's not the only one who looks just about brain-dead." Dad nudged me. "Oh, and by the way, if your mum gets wind of what I said, I'm denying it."

I snorted.

"But seriously, Al, you look like you're about to pass out, right here, right now. First day of school jitters keeping you up?" Dad asked knowingly.

"I didn't catch a wink of sleep yesterday!" I yelled, yanking my hair in annoyance. "Morag The Hag and his bloody cats kept me up all night long!"

"Al, you _know _Morag's role in the War was pivotal," Mum said reproachfully, apparently done "healing" Lily's ankle. Mum was an amazing witch, don't get me wrong, she could throw a mean hex – but when it came to healing? Merlin help us all if she ever decided to make a living out of it.

"How do we care what his role in the War was?" James demanded, apparently taking my side. "And what does pivotal even mean?"

"_Excuse _me?" Mum looked like she was about to go off again. "Do you have _any _idea how dangerous the War was? If your father hadn't defeated Voldemort once and for all, we wouldn't be here!"

I rushed to help James. Sure, Mum _was _rather like a time bomb waiting to go off, and James put his toe over the line more and more every time, but he'd taken it too far.

"Mum, you know that's not what James meant. It's not good for us all to live in the past. You and Dad should know that better than anyone else, remember?"

"He's right," Dad said quietly to Mum. "Just let it go." After the War, Dad had experienced one of the worst cases of PTSD St. Mungo's had seen. Mum had been the only one who could help him heal mentally, apart from Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione.

Mum, who had turned slightly pale, nodded. Suddenly she noticed the crowd that was gawking at the famous Potter family. "What are you all staring at?" she said furiously. "There's nothing to see here! Mind your own business!"

The crowd disassembled, unwilling to experience Ginny Potter's infamous temper.

"Al, a second," Dad said. I nodded. I knew where this was going. Mum dragged James and Lily off. "Do you remember what I told you about Houses?" he asked.

"I do. I thought about it, and..." I took a deep breath. "I know what you said about the Sorting Hat taking my choice into account, but... I'm going to let it choose for itself."

Dad's look of pride clearly meant he'd misunderstood.

"But this doesn't mean I'm fine with Slytherin yet!" I said hurriedly. Dad's face fell. "While I don't hate it anymore, and I understand that Houses don't define who you are, and I remember you telling me about the good Slytherins, like Severus Snape, but... I'm still not sure. But... I think everything will turn out okay."

Dad looked relieved. "Well, I'm glad about that," he said. "Look, so far, the only bad thing about Slytherin so far is the freezing cold, and luckily for you, McGonnagall had the dorms renovated, so that's that, right?"

I laughed, and the tension diffused instantly. "Yeah. And... thanks, Dad."

Dad smiled. "Any time."

"Al! The train's about to leave!" James yelled from far away. I hugged dad one last time and walked towards the train.

While I didn't know what House I would be Sorted in, I knew what was ahead...

But was I ready for it?

* * *

"Al," James said, looking at me unusually seriously. "I think you should get your own compartment."

"Why? " I asked. "You're not going to start flinging pies at people's faces like you usually do when you're mad, are you? Or shove your pirate skull underwear in their noses? Or – OH MY MERLIN PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DO A REPEAT OF THAT TIME WHEN YOU TAPED YOURSELF TO A BROOMSTICK WITH GEORGE'S FIREWORKS, TIED THEM AROUND YOUR UNMENTIONABLES, AND –"

"NO!" James yelled, looking traumatized. "Merlin's pants, it's nothing like that! And that was long back!"

"That was last Friday!"

"It's irrelevant to this conversation!"

"Look, someone's been teaching you big words again, James!" I said with mock pride. "This is great! If you're not careful, someone might think you're growing up!"

James glowered, clearly fed up of me. "You know what? Fine. Blast whatever I was going to tell you, since I doubt you _care._"

I stared at James, speechless. I had clearly just experienced James feeling hurt about something I had said. I rushed after him. "Wait!" I called. "I really want to know what you were going to say, I do! Why do you think I should find my own compartment?"

James hesitantly turned around, his scowl fading. "Al, it's your first year. You're going to have to make an impression on others, and this is your chance to make a good one. I mean, no pressure, but you _really _don't want to be known as the dorky kid who keeps clinging to his older brother." James paused, and noticed my crestfallen face. "Not that I think of you that way," he said hurriedly, "but others might. You know what I mean?"

"Unfortunately," I sighed, "I do."

James grinned at me and punched my arm lightly. "Come on, man up, you sissy! You're a Potter! Potters aren't sissies! Otherwise they get their heads dunked down toilets by yours truly!"

"There's the immature brat we all know and don't love," I mumbled. "I was hoping he'd never resurface."

James winked and walked away, his arm raised in farewell.

Time to find a compartment...

* * *

"Is this seat taken?"

I looked up and saw a boy who had ruffled, platinum blonde hair. He looked around my age. "No," I said, "You can sit if you like."

"I think I might just take you up on that," he said, his mouth curling into a lopsided grin. "The name's Scorpius," he said. I suddenly realized that I'd seen him at the platform.

"You're a Malfoy, aren't you?" I asked curiously, picking at my robes.

Scorpius sighed but didn't deny it. "I'm a Malfoy," he admitted. "Unless that's a problem?"

"No way," I said to him, grinning. "I'm Albus, and that's Justin –" I pointed to the scruffy, mousy boy who was huddled at the corner seat, "Benson –" I waved my hand toward the boy next to Justin; he smiled at hearing his name and nodded, "and Zoey," I finished, looking at the blonde girl beside me. Scorpius raised one eyebrow at Zoey, taken aback by her presence. Zoey, clearly noticing Scorpius's somewhat surprised look, quirked an eyebrow.

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken," Scorpius said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on is knees, "but shouldn't you be in a compartment full of annoying girls, swooning over famous celebrities and whatnot?" he asked, his grey eyes challenging, as he stared questioningly at the seemingly innocent and harmless blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Zoey noticeably bristled.

"Well, I absolutely _beg_ your pardon for having the _audacity _to _not_ sit with _brainless twats_ who keep going _on _and _on _about their new favourite celebrity of the _day,_ and giggling over every single bloke to ever set foot into Hogwarts, including _Professor Flitwick,_ and discussing the best hair products to use; oh, I plea for your forgiveness, Your Majesty!" Zoey snarled. "Maybe _you w_ould be better off joining them, since _your_ hair's probably shinier than the lot's, even though they keep using all those _trashy_ products that are going to cause their hair to fall off!"

Scorpius looked taken aback, grudging respect showing on his face for the fiery girl. Zoey was, in many ways, quite similar to Lily, I noted to myself.

"Well, appearances most certainly can be deceiving, am I right?" He nodded to me. "No need to bite, I was just assessing you."

"_Assessing_ me!" Zoey spat out in disbelief, narrowing her eyes. "What gives you the right to go around _assessing _people?"

Scorpius grinned, unfazed by the fuming girl in front of him, and I was startled by his quick change of mood. "I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't be all weepy and annoying like those clingy girls," he said, and Zoey relaxed a bit. He stuck his hand out at her. "Truce?"

Zoey hesitantly shook Scorpius's hand, and immediately pulled away, as if his touch burned.

Scorpius turned to me. "So, Albus, around half of the second years at Hogwarts bet their galleons that we would be enemies right away," he remarked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye that I had come to recognize from Fred, James and my own self, and I knew we'd be friends right away.

"Let's test that theory, shall we?" I said, grinning.

I might be the youngest Potter in Hogwarts (so far), but as long as I had friends with me every second of the way, I would be fine.


	2. Chapter 2

JAMES

"Unbelievable!" Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. "Absolutely unbelievable!"

With an irritated sigh, I gazed tiredly at my cousin, watching her stomp her way across the corridor hall and mutter curses as she continued to take her anger out on the floor.

"Unbelievable!"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, shut up!" I yelled at the redhead, having had enough. I shot her an extremely irritated look. "Merlin, you're bloody annoying, Molly! You've been shouting for the past twenty minutes! Just give it a rest already!"

Molly's eyes flashed. "Well, excuse me, James!"

"You're excused," I muttered under my breath.

Her face contorted and, for a moment, I was afraid she was going to hex me. Well, until I remembered that she was a _Prefect. _A big, bad Prefect. Honestly, I was surprised she hadn't brought it up yet, since she'd felt the need to brag about it every five minutes during holidays, but I knew it was coming. "Are you telling me that the incident in the Charms classroom had _nothing _to do with you or Fred? I will have you know, James Sirius Potter, that I am a Prefect now -" _Ah, there it was - _"and I will not tolerate any of this nonsense for a minute longer!"

Merlin, she was annoying. I rolled my eyes. "Loosen up, Mollykins," I said casually, knowing that she hated the nickname. "If you stay this uptight all the time, that prick Dave will break up with you, and good riddance, if you ask me. I'll never get why you like him, anyway. He's a pansy, and a boring sod. Plus, your cat will probably abandon you, too; we all know that the only person Whiskers actually _likes _is Dave."

Molly fumed. "Five points from Gryffindor for talking back to a Prefect!" she screeched.

"_What_?" I demanded. "The feast hasn't even started yet, and you're in Gryffindor!"

"Your point being?" she said haughtily. When I didn't respond, she smirked evilly and said, "That's what I thought," before she strutted away.

What was the good side of her being a Prefect, then? Honestly, the only good thing about her being a Prefect was that she'd be on my side, and now I didn't even have that!

My life sucked.

"Oh, and go the Great Hall!" Molly called without looking back.

"Your cat sucks!" I yelled, for lack of anything else to say.

I hated cats.

Now, please don't go all, _But how can you hate _cats, _James? They're so adorable; how can you not melt when they purr?_

First of all, cats had the uncanny ability to mess stuff up, and look cute while doing it. What's worse is that cats often did that on purpose, and the eons of domestic evolution have taught them to play their victim (you) like a fiddle. And don't even get me started on that purr. Cats probably perfected that super cute manipulative "_meeow" _to awaken the same emotions in us as when we hear the sound of a baby crying for food. Since we'll never be a match for cats' masterful manipulation tactics, we'll always react to it by immediately doing whatever Sir Fluffy Pants demands us to do.

Not to mention, your cat rubbing up against you has nothing to do with his affection for you. Cats have a great sense of smell, so your cat is probably secreting his scent onto you so no other cats will come near you. When he snuggles his body against yours, all he's saying is that he owns you. You are his property. His minion.

Your relationship is emotionally abusive, and you didn't even know it.

Also, cats don't like sweet things, which mean that they dislike dessert. Everyone knows you can never trust a dessert-hater.

So, can you blame me for wanting nothing to do with those nasty little buggers? _I THINK NOT._

Hmm. My namesakes - James Potter and Sirius Black - would be proud of me.

* * *

"Where were you, mate?" Killian, one of my friends, asked me. "You missed the treacle tart."

I bit back a curse. Treacle tart was my favourite dessert. Now what did I have to look forward to?

"Got held up by the Mollster," I muttered gloomily, helping myself to some caramel custard, which was delicious, mind you, but would never outshine my precious treacle tart.

"I saved some cream of mushroom soup for you, James," piped up Lacey, another second year, who had something akin to infatuation with me. I was flattered and all, but it could get annoying at times. Still, there were the perks, this being one of them. Merlin himself knew I'd kill for cream of mushroom soup.

"Thank you, Lacey," I said gratefully, my eyes lighting up. Lacey turned pink and handed me the bowl. This cream of mushroom soup hadn't lost one jot of its butter-laden, cognac-kissed suavity. "Soup" was too prosaic a term for the earthy silkiness in every bowlful. Fungi begged for the honour of giving their lives this way. I was a complete sap when it came to food. I mean, in real life, who actually _used _words like "prosaic", "cognac-kissed suavity" and "earthy silkiness"? Lily must be rubbing off on me, only she described food this way.

"Hey, James, I saw the whole show on the platform today," Killian said, raising an eyebrow.

"Who didn't? Everyone was getting in line to see the famous Ginny Potter scold her immature, asinine son for goofing around. I swear, if Rita Skeeter had been there, she would've had a field day," Brianne said, snorting.

I groaned. "You lot are just wonderful friends. Simply spiffy. I was just messing around with Al, and mum blew her lid."

"You're _always _messing around with Al!" Brianne said indignantly. "Do you always have to be such a bad older brother?"

I took offense to that.

"Hey!" I protested. "I'll have you lot know, I happened to give Al some first-rate advice on the train," I huffed.

My friends, of course, burst into laughter, being the kind souls they were. Not.

"It's true! And I'm not a bad older brother. Al and I have always been close, and Lily adores me."

"That _is _true," Killian said, nodding. "When I visited in the holidays, she seemed to completely adore you and Albus, and you adored her equally. I mean, she was the only one who was allowed to call you _Jamie, _and we all know how much you loathe that name."_  
_

Of course I hated the name Jamie; who wouldn't? It was a _girl's _name. It didn't just _ooze _masculinity, if you know what I mean. To people who actually named their son Jamie: Go ahead, make your son feel like an odd ball right off the bat with a girl's name. In class, the teacher would probably look for a girl when she called out your child's name. On hospital records, your child would automatically be noted as female. Your child would have to be beaten up by all the bullies because he had a girl's name.

"If that's true, how come she seemed so stand-offish on the platform today?" Brianne asked, breaking my train of thought.

"She still hasn't forgiven me and Al for that, ah, _incident, _you could call it, about that hair-changing shampoo," I explained. "It's weird having her mad at us."

Brianne, of course, chose that moment to start lecturing me about how _of course _Lily hadn't forgiven me yet, how I had to learn to give her space more, blah blah blah. I dazed off into space, staring at the ground. It was the exact same shade as my dog biscuits. I had an odd fondness for those. I kept drooling over the thought of my precious biscuits until I felt a sharp elbow nudge my side, and I winced, rubbing my sore side.

That nudge _hurt._

I turned to face Fred, my closest cousin. "James, the Sorting's halfway done!" he hissed. "Did you daydream throughout the whole speech _and _the first half of the Sorting?"

I gave him an apologetic shrug, and turned to face the first years. A tall kid with weird yellow eyes – seriously, who had _yellow_ eyes? – was sitting on the stool. He didn't seem overconfident, but at least he didn't look like he'd burst into tears. He was an okay looking bloke, I decided.

"Jackson, Carter!" Neville (I'd never get used to calling him Professor Longbottom) said. The Hat paused for a moment, before screaming, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The table erupted into cheers.

I turned to Fred. "So who've we got so far?" I asked.

Fred peeled his eyes away from the new first year. "Well," he started, "we've got one of the Goyle twins, the male one, Cepheus Goyle –"

"No way!" I breathed. "A _Goyle? _In Gryffindor?"

"So?" Fred shrugged. "Are you telling me you'd hate Al if he landed up in any House apart from Gryffindor?"

"Of course not, you berk." I rolled my eyes. "I'm just saying, wasn't Goyle the kid who's mum swore that she'd disown him in he ended up in any House apart from Slytherin?"

Fred looked uneasy. "I dunno, mate," he said. "Let's just try to be nice to him."

I agreed with Fred. I felt really bad for the new kid. I couldn't imagine living a life like his, my path already lain out for me, striving for perfection, living a life I didn't want. I didn't appreciate often enough how lucky I was. Besides from the fact that Mum was a little hot-headed, I had really cool parents.

"What happened to his twin?" I asked.

"Oh – Cassiopeia Goyle? She got Sorted into Hufflepuff."

I choked back a laugh. "Mama Goyle isn't going to be too happy, is she? Both her children – in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff!"

Fred snorted. "Dad told me that back in the old days, when our parents were in Hogwarts, people like the Goyle twins' parents hated Hufflepuff and Gryffindor more than anything."

"So who else have we got?" I asked Fred after "Macmillian, Grace" was Sorted in Ravenclaw.

"We've got one more person – that Sienna girl, who sat in Rose's compartment. They didn't seem all that alike," Fred said, and when he pointed out Sienna to me, I kind of agreed with him. Sienna looked bold, confident, and outspoken. She didn't seem like the type of girl who'd shy away from people behind books.

"James, this'll be an interesting one," Fred muttered under his breath. To see what he was talking about, I saw a familiar kid on the stool. He had platinum blonde hair, and surprisingly clear grey eyes.

"He's that Malfoy kid," I said, my eyes widening with recognition. "He sat with Al on the train!"

"He can't be too bad, then." Fred shrugged.

I watched closely, remembering when dad had told us how Draco Malfoy's Sorting happened so quickly. I waited... and waited... and kept waiting. What was up with the Sorting Hat? It had never taken this long before. Scorpius Malfoy must have a really complex mind. Finally, its answer rang clear.

"GRY– SLYTHERIN!"

My mouth fell open in a silent gasp of shock. There was an intake of air from beside me – Fred must've had a similar reaction to mine. Jaws had dropped all around the Great Hall. Everyone was stunned into silence... even McGonagall looked startled. I tried to remember if there had ever been a time when the Sorting Hat had changed its mind mid-decision. I was certain it had never happened before. And, sweet Merlin, it had nearly Sorted him into _Gryffindor_, of all Houses.

"Well, I guess we just dodged a bullet," I heard someone say. I turned around to face the owner of the voice, Atticius Corner.

"What was that?" I said coldly, regarding him with disdain.

Atticius shrugged. "What? Everyone was thinking it. A Malfoy could never belong here, anyway. Every single one of them went psycho and joined You-Know-Who. Your brother's either stupid for befriending him, or as bad as the lot."

I snapped.

"You know, for someone who has a heck of a lot to say about Death Eaters, you aren't all that saintly, either, you prick," I growled. "And get your facts straight. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy helped my Mum and Dad in the end; they were really important in ending the war."

Atticius's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Did I strike a nerve there, Potter? Maybe _you_ belong with the Slytherins, too!"

"Do you really want _us _on your bad side, Corner?" Fred said menacingly. Everyone knew that my friends and I were the best pranksters in the school, even though we were only second years. The smirk on Atticius's face wavered.

"Watch yourself, Potter," he said quietly, and disappeared to the other side of the table.

The tension dissipated, and I turned back to the Sorting.

"Moon, Emma."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Moore, Georgina."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Potter, Albus."

My eyes snapped up from the table to my brother, sitting on the stool. He was pale, and I knew that his palms were clammy, the way they always were when he was nervous. I gave him a reassuring nod, and he forced a smile; it looked more like a grimace, really.

And then, I knew. I knew what was going to happen, the second before it did, and I felt as if my world was spinning, spiraling out of control, and slowly shattering to bits.

"SLYTHERIN!"


End file.
